


The Measure of Guilt

by biqua



Series: Measurements [6]
Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Class Quest, Eclipse Squad, Gen, Planet: Rishi, Quest: Eclipse Squad, Republic Trooper Storyline, Shadow of Revan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-04-15 13:12:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4608066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biqua/pseuds/biqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While investigating the Revanties on Rishi with a ragtag team of reluctant "allies," Major Badri Emras is summoned for a meeting with General Garza. The mission that followed would set off a chain of events that rocked the Republic Military to its core.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have a late, non-sequential Measurements update! This one will probably be on hold until I finish Machines, but it covers the Trooper class quest on Rishi in the Shadow of Revan expansion. Many things change. Fewer people die, though! That's a first for me.
> 
> This also ties directly in to the main Shadow of Revan storyline/fic, so there will be a few mentions to other characters (specifically Bee the smuggler, Miatt the Jedi Knight, and Cipher Nine) who are also trying to track the Revanites.

The house was set up the same as almost every other safe house Badri had been in. Bottles and plates were strewn haphazardly on the tables, a clumsy attempt to make the house look lived-in. The large galaxy map on the back wall rather ruined the effect. The General herself stood in front of it. She couldn't have looked less casual if she had tried.

"Perimeter report," Garza barked, and Badri knew that something had gone horribly wrong. He had already gathered that _something_ had gone wrong, but her tone dropped his assessment of the situation from merely _bad_ to _likely catastrophic_.

"We're clear, sir," he reassured her. "No enemy contact or surveillance." And no damned imps following him, either. It had taken six wrong turns to lose that damned Cipher's tail, and he wasn't entirely sure that the blasted Sith wasn't monitoring him. Hopefully Bee was keeping them busy. Stars knew she could be a handful when she wanted to.

"Good," Garza said. "What's the status of Havoc Squad?"

"All equipped and combat ready, about one hour's trip away. Seconds with a hyperjump." Badri wondered if he could recall them now, but he didn't want his team to get involved with the Revanites if they didn't have to. This mess predated Havoc, and it was his to deal with.

"I'm counting on that, but you haven't disappointed me yet." Garza moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something more, but stopped herself. "I apologize for interrupting your operation—I don't doubt your objectives."

"Right now I just want an explanation. There's a lot happening and I wasn't expecting you on Rishi." And it had been a right pain to lose the tail. He couldn't afford to keep Bee and Theron waiting. And Miatt… who knew where his friend had ended up?

"There's a story I need to yell you," Garza sighed. "It involves a Republic Special Forces team named Eclipse Squad."

It took a second, but the name didn't trigger any associations for Badri—the image of a moon passing in front of a sun, a group of people, no one in particular. A new squad, then. "Go on."

"It started with the Rakton campaign. Your victory on Corellia was tremendous, and it's why I've been out of contact. After what happened, the Supreme Commander wanted you on top priority, front line missions only. You were too valuable—and too recognizable—for covert SpecForce work."

"That—" Badri started, but cut himself off. "I understand. With the war such as it was, and Havoc taking most of the spotlight for that op, pushing us to the front made sense."

"Do not misunderstand," Garza said. "We both know your talents are best utilized for covert ops. I was proud to see you—and Havoc—outgrow me. Still, SpecForce needed a covert team, and no one could match your track record."

"What about Blackbird?" Badri suggested, the words out of his mouth before he had processed them.

"Blackbird is designed to run parallel to Havoc," Garza explained. "The teams take different responsibilities, and Blackbird is still needed on their Outer Rim detail. Quite frankly, the only reason Havoc took any ops in the Outer Rim was because Blackbird was still being rebuilt, and the situation there got out of hand. No, I had to build a replacement. I tried every combination of species and technology, but couldn't hit the right formula—not until your operation on Manaan."

Suspicion swum over him like nausea. "That operation was a secret," he accused.

"I have sources, Major."

"The only way you could know—" he started. Garza interrupted him.

"I am still your commanding officer, Major," she reminded him. "I know where your ship travels."

Relief was not complete, but it was enough to waylay the suspicion. Garza might be secretive, but she wasn't a Revanite.

The general continued, "I sent a savage team after you, and we dredged up the Revanite's Rakata technology."

All the relief Badri felt sunk away. He might be sick yet, as understanding came in a sudden flash of nerves and wires. "You rebuilt that tech and applied it to a SpecForce team. That's what Eclipse Squad is." His voice sounded hollow, even to his own ears, even more than usual.

"Very good," Garza said, and anger suddenly welled up in Badri's chest. "My science team reconstructed whatever Rakata tech they could. What they couldn't, they patched with replacements from the inventor Krel's blueprints. We took six volunteers and made them better soldiers. They were extraordinary, at first."

Badri could barely process the meaning of her words; everything was tinted red with blood. "Better soldiers," he echoed dully. "You—What… what happened?" he asked, the question another accusation.

"There were… psychological effects. The team became paranoid. We thought it could be controlled," she added quickly before Badri could interject.

"Controlled?" he repeated incredulously. " _Controlled?!_ Do you know how long it's been?" Anger had taken over now, and he dropped any respect and protocol the general was due. "Six years. Six _fucking_ years."

"Emras—" Garza attempted to interrupt the major's rant, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Would it kill you to _try_ to understand?" he shouted, beginning to pace. "I can't believe—no, I do believe. That's what's so bad. I believe that you would be so damn stupid as to do this. Even knowing—even knowing me, what this has done to me, what it has _made me do_ , and you would put technology _designed by the enemy_ into our own soldiers?!"

"This is not the same!" Garza insisted.

"You told me to kill the cyborgs that Krel created!" Badri countered. "Coruscant, two years ago. My homeworld. I remember that order as clear as if you had just given it to me: _Destroy Krel's creations_. What do you want me to do now, clean up your mess?"

Garza was silent.

"General, what happened?" Badri demanded, his voice back to normal speaking volume.

"A fight broke out at Fort Klemark. The fort was destroyed and two hundred Republic soldiers killed. Eclipse went dark, and I've been tracking them ever since." Her voice was even and measured.

Badri closed his eye. "Two hundred people," he breathed. "How could you?" he asked weakly. "Those men, you betrayed them when you pumped them full of tech you barely understood, and now two hundred people have paid for it. This has to stop. _You_ have to stop."

"I made a mistake," Garza acknowledged tersely. "We can discuss blame in depth, or we can solve this problem." Badri couldn't speak, his tongue tied in pain and anger, so Garza continued. "Eclipse is sick, Major. They believe they're serving the Republic—I think they're here investigating the Revanites—but they see everyone as the enemy. Havoc is still the superior unit. Together, we have to find them and stop them."

"If they're working as a team, investigating the Revanites, then they can still reason. They still want to help the Republic. We can take them in, help them."

"Not an option," Garza barked back. "They have programming now, not reason. You don't reason your way to mass murder."

As soon as the words left her mouth, it was clear on Garza's face that she realized they had been a mistake. But Badri was beyond caring now—she had crossed a line, she had crossed _the_ line, and damned be the consequences.

"Programming?" he repeated, his face showing the barest hint of fury. If rooms reacted to the moods of their occupants, the safe house would have dropped below freezing. "Don't you dare talk to me about programming. Not now, not ever."

Perhaps unwisely, Garza attempted to salvage the situation. "This is a different situation, Emras," she said.

Without warning, Badri unclasped his left bracer, letting it fall to the floor. It was followed by the glove in less than a second. He pulled out the knife on his belt and Garza stepped backwards, honestly worried that he might use it on her. She placed a hand on her own gun, but Badri instead plunged the knife deep into his left forearm, dragging it through skin up to his wrist. The knife clattered on top of the glove when he dropped it. He pulled apart the cut, showing the metal which lay underneath the synthskin. It caught the light from the galaxy map on the wall, blue reflecting off durasteel.

"You may have the luxury to forget what I am, what I've done," Badri hissed, "but I don't. I know what I am, and it is _unforgivable_ to force that on anyone else." His left fist clenched, metal plates shifting visibly inside the cut.

There was a long silence as their gaze met. Garza looked straight at the patch which hid the cybernetic eye, as if she were attempting to tell him that she did remember. It made little difference to Badri; she didn't know, and she couldn't. Not if she kept repeating the same damn mistakes.

Garza blinked first, but she continued her briefing. "The Eclipse Squad members haven't deactivated their comm units. We can located them within two klicks that way. Once you're close, jam their comms using the nearest relay station. They'll come hunting you; it's how they were trained."

Badri was still staring at her. "We?"

"This isn't a mission either of us wanted, Major, but it needs to be done," Garza told him.

The silence lasted much longer than was comfortable. Badri reached down to retrieve his fallen objects, placing the knife back in its sheath and putting on the glove and bracer before he finally spoke. "Understood. Sir." The title seemed to be a deliberate afterthought.

Garza exhaled. "Good hunting," she said, an informal dismissal.

Badri wasted no time, turning on his heel and leaving the room. He almost collapsed in the small hallway, but he waited until he was safely outside the door, under one of the slum's pillars which held up the city deck above. He leaned against it as sobs wracked his body, sinking down to the ground.

He couldn't stop the flashbacks as they came, his hands spasming as he recalled what it meant to completely lose control of one's body. What "programming" meant to a cyborg. Red eyes always accused him in his dreams, both asleep and waking. It was a pain not only in his chest, but which traveled up his spine to his head, which traced the seam where metal met flesh, which burned into his mind with every tick, which reminded him of how little of him was left. How fragile his continued life was, and how perilous his autonomy. Six years, but the memories cut as deep and left wounds as fresh as if it had happened mere days, mere moments ago. It was all he could do to push it gently out of his mind, wishing for the first time since he had landed on Tython that Nahin had been caught up in the mess with the Revanites, because then she would be here to talk him down. His feeble coping mechanisms would have to do for the time being.

Once he had regained control of his body, at least as much as he was able, he opened a line to his ship on the comm.

"Jorgan?"

"What is it, sir?" the lieutenant's voice came over the comm.

"I need you to set course for Rishi, double time. Stay in orbit. I may need some assistance."

"Sir? You sure you don't want one of us to come down?" Jorgan was pushing, concerned.

"No, I can handle this," Badri said, grim determination in his voice. "This is something I have to do myself."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On hold, huh? Well, I'm kind of back now. Have another chapter. Expect more to come.
> 
> Part of me still can't believe this is an actual quest that happens. I wrote Machines _years_ before SOR was released.

“You’re in position, Major. Begin jamming the frequency.”

Badri bit back the cutting remark on the tip of his tongue, and followed orders. “Do I have incoming?”

“Sergeant Parisa is within five hundred meters,” Garza said. “She’ll assume a malfunction and find the relay to reestablish contact with her team.”

“Understood,” said Badri. “Any other intel on the sergeant?”

“She was the youngest—technical genius, lost her parents when the war turned hot. Callsign Blink.”

A sudden flash in his vision indicated to Badri that the sergeant had entered range. It was a welcome distraction from the memories that had inconveniently entered his mind: seven holo clips of a world on fire, played over and over again for days. He traced a line on his left palm absentmindedly, temporarily forgetting that there was no scar under the glove.

“Havoc Squad traitor identified!”

Oh, shit. That was his cue.

She shot first, but Badri was in no rush. The first few seconds of the fight showed she was good enough to have earned her place in SpecForce, but she lacked his years of hard-won experience. And if his suspicions were correct, her instincts weren’t fully operating either, which gave him a significant advantage.

He was so busy focusing on the battle that he almost missed the end of Garza’s briefing. Almost.

“Now all that’s left is her body, and a computer brain going through the motions.”

Badri saw red. It was all he could do to keep his head in the fight at hand, instead of wasting precious seconds ripping out his earpiece and blasting it to shreds. He had a list of choice words for Garza, but now wasn’t the time to access them. Speaking required too much focus, and he knew what he had to do now.

He couldn’t re-use his old plan, because it would have the same adverse effect on him now as it had six years ago. But he could read this battle, he could read the sergeant, and he could pull this off without resorting to an EMP.

He could take her down non-lethally.

“For the Republic!” the sergeant shouted. Badri barely processed it, as his mind was still trying to work out a plan of least damage. He just needed to get her unconscious. After that, the game was his.

It proved to be easier than expected. A few shots to non-lethal areas, areas high in cybernetics, were enough to knock the sergeant down. As the technical officer, she probably wasn’t trained to fight through multiple shot wounds, and there was only so much cybernetics could do.

“Major, what is your status?” Garza demanded. “Sergeant Parisa is—”

Badri knew Garza had finished her sentence, but he had stopped listening. He holstered his weapon, running to check on the sergeant. _Alive. Still alive. Thank the stars._

“Major!” Garza repeated.

"I'm not doing this your way," Badri said, anger rushing back into his mind and voice. “Not this time."

"Eclipse Squad is a danger we cannot afford, not with the war, not with the Revanites! You of all people should know that," Garza reminded him.

_"Then kill me!"_

That finally threw Garza off her guard. "What?" she asked incredulously.

"Kill me," Badri repeated. "You heard me."

"There is no—"

"There is all the reason in the universe!" Badri shouted, cradling the unconscious sergeant in his arms. "I am a sergeant who killed Republic soldiers. My own team! I am exactly like her! Why her, and not me?!"

"That was a—"

_"You fucking hypocrite!"_ Badri shouted. "Elara!"

"Yes, sir?" came Dorne's voice over the comm. A welcome relief.

"One to transport up to the ship. Keep her sedated, locked down if you want, but _keep her alive!_ "

"Major, you cannot—!" Garza started once again.

"To hell with what I can and can't do!" Badri interrupted. "If you tell me the situation is different one more fucking time, I will turn off my comm and cut you out of this op. If you want to know what I do, keep your damn mouth shut until this is over. Then I have some things to say to you."

Amazingly, Garza fell silent.

"Dorne?" Badri asked cautiously. "All set up there?"

"Yes sir, Yuun is operating the controls. Jorgan and I are standing by for Sergeant Parisa's arrival."

"Take her up," Badri said, moving away from the mangled body. He watched as the teleport wrapped around her, and allowed himself a breath of relief. “Keep me updated on her status, Dorne.”

“Yes sir!” she replied, clearly hurried. Good. That meant she was working.

“General Garza, sir,” Badri said through gritted teeth. “Your color commentary has once again proven that you have _no fucking clue_ what you’re talking about. If you can’t keep your ill-informed, and quite frankly, life-threateningly distracting comments to yourself, I will not hesitate to turn off my comm. Is that clear?”

Garza didn’t respond. Badri took it as a yes.

***

“Jamming Eclipse frequency,” Badri said tersely. He didn’t really want to speak with Garza, but the fact remained that he didn’t know who he was fighting, and she did. “Who is incoming?”

“Lieutenant Mak’eef, callsign Babe,” Garza replied through the earpiece. “Heavy weapons specialist. He used to be a pacifist and a card shark. He started the fighting at Fort Klemark. Thought his fellow soldiers had poisoned his rations.”

Badri groaned slightly. He wasn’t sure if that last comment was Garza’s attempt at setting him against Lieutenant Mak’eef, but it made no difference. Of course they were the ones who started the fighting. Badri was the one who had attacked first, back when…

A card shark and a pacifist, huh? Life’s little ironies, maybe.

Mak’eef came into view, and he looked nothing like Taroth. Probably a good thing, not that Taroth had ever been a pacifist. He had just preferred not to fight, and placed bets on _everything_.

Badri ducked out of the way of the first shot. Mak’eef was better than Parisa, more experienced. Heavy weapons were dangerous, but slow—refire times were a bitch. That was why Badri preferred not to use his own canon. Rifles suited his style much better—he had the speed to avoid Mak’eef, the vision to spot his cybernetics, even under the armor, and the aim to hit them.

Funny, that it was his cybernetics providing him the means to bring down these others. Other cyborgs. When he wasn’t in combat, Badri tended to turn off as many extraneous functions of his vision system as possible, but they were damn useful in a fight.

Mak’eef went down harder than Parisa, too. Badri was surprised by how little blood there was. Thankfully, Garza seemed to have learned her lesson and was staying silent.

“Dorne, one more for the medbay,” Badri called, taking a step back. He watched as Mak’eef shimmered out of existence, to reappear on Havoc’s ship.

Two down, four to go.


End file.
